


life is your creation

by noplacespecial



Category: Parks and Recreation
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-30
Updated: 2013-07-30
Packaged: 2017-12-21 19:57:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/904264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noplacespecial/pseuds/noplacespecial
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not that April is competitive...and yet, Andy ends up onstage at The Bulge in a dress anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	life is your creation

**Author's Note:**

> In which I take Pornbattle prompts and write mostly non-porny fics with them. Prompts for this one were 'crossdressing' and 'panties'. #sorrynotsorry.

  


It's not necessarily that April's actually competitive; usually, she's perfectly willing to give in because she genuinely doesn't care. But it also depends on who she's losing *to* - she will not accept defeat to someone she dislikes or finds generally incompetent. The problem is that she finds most people dislikable or generally incompetent, so it all translates to: yeah, she's competitive. Even about really, really stupid things that should not matter. Like The Bulge's amateur drag competition.

"Did you hear Ben is entering?" Carl asks from behind the bar, when he catches her checking out the flier. Clearly Carl is behind on his bartender gossip, because April hasn't talked to Derek or Ben in months, and even when she was with Derek she and Ben didn't particularly get along. She narrows her eyes.

"What's the deadline to enter?" she demands. Carl arches a brow at her and hands her a copy from the giant stack of neon handouts. April studies it as she stomps out of the bar. They've got about a week to get ready. She can do a week. "Put my drink on Leslie's tab," she calls over her shoulder, phone already in hand and dialing Andy.

~*~

"Do I want to know what this is about?" Donna questions when April asks to borrow some clothes and shoes. She thinks about it for a second.

"No, probably not," she finally admits. Donna nods and hands her a pink, leather-trimmed bustier that looks like it would fit Andy's broad chest.

"Fair enough."

~*~

"Babe, I dunno about this," Andy whines, tugging at the hem of a bright purple dress with sequins across the bodice. April has to admit, it looked way better on Donna. But she's not backing down now.

"Stand still!" she demands. She takes a few steps back and observes his figure thoughtfully. "Needs more padding in the bra," she finally decides, reaching for another insert. 

Andy heaves a sigh.

~*~

"You want me to do *what*?!" Andy demands. April groans.

"It's not that big of a deal," she argues. Andy is physically backing away from her like she's going to attack him any moment; although to be fair, it's probably a safe assumption. She's got a razor in one hand and a can of shaving cream in the other and apparently only one of them is into the idea of shaving him bare.

"Not happening." Andy retreats another step and his back hits the wall. He glances from side-to-side in comically over-the-top panic, and she advances on him.

"Andy. It's just for this one thing. It will grow back!" He shakes his head, eyes still wide with terror. She glances over at the bathtub, considering.

"I'll shower with you," she sing-songs. She loves Andy, but showering with him is more of a chore than anything. He just takes up so much *room*, and she's always afraid one of them is going to slip and fall, or catch an elbow to the eye as they maneuver around the tiny space together. But Andy loves it, loves the slickness of their wet skin gliding against one another, and the prospect of shower sex which she can't bring herself to tell him is never going to happen until they move somewhere with a bathroom approximately three times the size of this one. His eyes light up at the prospect, but he can obviously tell he's being manipulated, and they narrow just a bit.

"Fine. If you get to shave me, I get to shave you," he says. April's brows hit her hairline. "Your legs! Just your legs!" he backpedals. It doesn't really matter which part of her anatomy he meant, she's not all too thrilled at the prospect of him getting near her skin with a razor blade - she's seen the amount of times he's nicked himself just shaving his face. But clearly a compromise will need to be made here, and as he gives her the sad puppy dog eyes that he's pretty much perfected by now, she's forced to admit that she does indeed trust him. She sighs heavily.

"Fine. But you do the full monty - legs, chest, everything."

By the time they're done, the water has long-since run cold, April has conceded to tub sex (fully seated, no chance of injury), and Andy is enamored with his newly-smooth skin, continually giggling and rubbing up against April just because he likes how it feels. She can't say she minds.

~*~

Surprisingly, the easiest part is getting him into the high heels. Well, not the actual *getting him into them* part, because even after buying custom size 13 stilettos, it still takes a fair bit of effort to get them onto Andy's big stinky man-feet. April considers it lucky that they're already married, because if she had gotten this up close and personal with his toenail fungus when they were dating she probably would have broken it off for her own health and safety.

But once they're on, it takes just a few minutes for Andy to get the hang of it. He's been a natural athlete all his life, and spent quite a bit of time playing ice hockey when he was younger. This has given him a fantastic sense of balance, and he wobbles far less than April did when she and Natalie first raided their mom's closet and tottered around the living room in her sensible pumps. She makes him wear them around the house for the entire length of whatever nerd movie Ben is watching in his room. (He's probably curious about the noise, but thankfully he learned to stop asking questions pretty soon after her moved in.)

Once it's clear that he's confident and comfortable, and he's mastered walking up and down stairs - which is frankly pretty impressive, April still death-grips the railing whenever she has to do it - she tries to teach him a little Tyra Banks runway walk. This proves a little more difficult, as apparently Andy's hips were just not meant to shimmy that way. But April's not going to sweat it; as long as he can get to the end of the stage and back at The Bulge without falling on his face, she'll be happy.

She's pretty good at the hip-shimmying, if she does say so herself. Andy also says so, repeatedly and enthusiastically, and falls back onto the couch, watching her sway. This, she's good at; April can dance and she knows it. But, like most things these days, it's way more fun if she's doing it with Andy. She grabs his hand and pulls him back up, turns the radio to the Pop Top 40's station she hates. Andy, despite all his athletic prowess, is tragically clumsy and uncoordinated, and his dancing...well, it leaves something to be desired. That's the nicest way April can put it. But it's somehow charming and cute in a way that she can only associate with being in love. There's no other reason to laugh at his awkward shuffling and want to kiss him instead of mock him.

They end up choreographing stupid dances to whatever song comes on, and April is laughing and grinning so hard her cheeks hurt. They lose track of time just being silly with each other, which is not uncommon, and they both jump when they hear the door to Ben's room open.

"ABORT!" Andy screams, and scoops April up into his arms. He dashes into their bedroom, heels and all, and slams the door shut just as they hear Ben's voice asking if he can turn off this annoying music. They tumble to the bed still laughing, and Andy fucks her with the high heels still on. April gasps for air as she laughs and comes at the same time. When it's over, she hugs Andy tight.

"I love you and your disgusting feet," she tells him. He furrows a brow, not really understanding, but kisses her anyway, and April is really really glad in that moment that she never got the chance to break up with him for his nasty feet. All that said, he's going to have to wrestle them into those stilettos himself next time.

~*~

They both have to work the day of the competition. They don't have time to stop by home, and the queens at The Bulge hog the one unisex bathroom bad enough on a normal night, so there's no telling what kind of chaos they're going to find with a drag contest going on. This leaves the bathroom at the Parks Department their only option, which, as far as options go, is not ideal. April waits until the very last minute to start wrangling Andy into his outfit, hoping against all hope that everyone has left by now. It takes awhile, and Andy still doesn't make the prettiest girl or anything, but all April cares about is that he beats the pants off of Ben. And knowing what a slut Ben is, that shouldn't be all too hard.

(Not that she's bitter or anything.)

"Okay, let's go," she finally says, once the dress, heels, and makeup are all situated. Andy walks with a confidence that she has to admire, and she hopes it does them well tonight, but mostly she's concentrating on not running into anyone they know right now. Which, you know, is kind of hard to do given that they've both worked in this building for the past several years. They kind of know everyone by now.

They're almost home free when April realizes that she's left his spare set of false eyelashes in the bathroom. She shoves Andy towards the entrance with strict instructions not to stop for anyone or anything, and to duck in the nearest door if he sees anyone coming. She runs back to the bathroom, grabs the little plastic case off the sink where she left it, and races back the way she came. If she's lucky, Andy is already in the car by now.

She's not so lucky, it turns out, because as she makes her way down the hallway, she hears voices. Both familiar. Her heart drops when she realizes that it's Leslie. But, really, she should have expected this. Who else would be here after 7pm on a weeknight? As she rounds the corner, their voices come into earshot. Well, Leslie's voice does, because as usual she's doing most of the talking.

"...nothing to be ashamed of. Cross-dressing is a totally legitimate...hobby? Would you call it a hobby? Or a...an interest? Anyway, the thing to remember is that there is *nothing to be ashamed of*. Have you told April? You should definitely tell April. It's important that we let the ones we love know what's going on in our lives. And I know she would never love you any less. Do you need help telling her? Oh, I'd be honored to help, I'm so glad you came to me with this, Andy. We should tell her as soon as possible, and you can explain to her that it's something that makes you happy, and she should be happy if you're happy. Do you..."

"Oh, for god's sake," April huffs. She's almost considering leaving Andy there for a few more minutes, just because his face is turning a rather amusing shade of purple, but there is only so much of this that she can take, and they're running late. She shoves Andy outside and turns to Leslie. "He's very shy about it," she says conspiratorially. "So, I think it might be best if we didn't tell anyone about this?" Leslie nods earnestly.

"Of course. Your secret is safe with me, April," she says solemnly. She leans forward slightly, and April thinks she might be trying to hug her, so she bolts out the door after Andy.

"Gotta go!" she tosses over her shoulder. The door is almost closed behind them when she hears Leslie murmur:

"Is that Donna's dress?"

~*~

Andy dances to "20th Century Boy" (April's choice; he had wanted to go with "Barbie Girl", but she had just sighed and ignored him). His wig is a little crooked by the time he gets on stage (he kept scratching his itchy scalp, despite April's protests), but he knows the words and the steps, and doesn't stumble even once. He really gives it his all, even adding in a few fancy steps in the heels he's become oddly fond of - he says it makes him feel like he's got deadly weapons strapped to his feet. April's not inclined to disagree.

Ben looks fantastic - April doesn't know who did his makeup, but they did a phenomenal job. His wig is on straight, and he's got a lacy corset cinched around his slim waist that gives him some pretty impressive curves. But he's awkward in his giant platforms, and his song choice - "Dude Looks Like a Lady" - is even worse than Andy's original suggestion. April catches Derek's eye in the crowd and smirks.

Neither of them place. Granted, April happens to think the whole contest is patently unfair, as those that did win were clearly not amateurs at all. But she's not bitter or anything. Still, she sweet-talks one of the judges into telling her the breakdown of the rest of the contestants, and Andy was two places ahead of Ben. That was all she was really asking for.

She finds Andy at the bar, in the midst of a group of admirers. He's grinning broadly, clearly eating it all up. April slips in through the crowd and plants a loud, smacking kiss on his lips when she reaches his side.

"Sorry boys, this one's taken," she announces, not bothering to taking her eyes off of Andy.

~*~

"I don't understand why I can't just wash this all off in the shower," he complains. April sighs for the seven millionth time and wets another cotton ball with makeup remover.

"Just trust me, it's easier this way," she says. "Besides, your wimpy boy face wash is not made to withstand the magical powers of waterproof mascara." Andy groans, but he dutifully keeps his eyes closed. April is seated up on the counter of the bathroom, with Andy standing between her legs, but she still has to stretch to reach his face. God, he's huge. And still wearing Donna's dress, which is pretty hilarious in the confines of their messy little bathroom. They're quiet as she peels away the false lashes, wipes away the mascara, eyeshadow, blush, and lipstick. He emerges fresh-faced and grinning, growls and buries his face in her neck. April absolutely does not giggle, and if ever questioned will deny such an action under penalty of death.

"Thanks for doing this for me," she says seriously, once he's pulled back to look at her and settled his big hands around her waist. 

"It was fun!" Andy responds, with no trace of sarcasm. He grins in that genuine, uncomplicated way that never fails to fill her with awe. She doesn't really know why it's always been hard for her to see the good in things, why she would rather make fun of something than find something to enjoy about it. But Andy sees. He always finds a way to be happy, even when things seem like they should be completely shitty. It's pretty inspiring, if the word alone didn't make her want to gag. And the thing is, that's okay with him. He doesn't care if she doesn't like the same things, doesn't like many things at all, is bitchy and competitive and a little insane. He knows all of that and he loves her anyway.

April grabs the pearl necklace dangling down his chest and uses it to yank him forward into a kiss. Andy responds as eagerly as ever. He slides his hands down to April's knees, and yanks her all the way to the edge of the counter top. She anchors her legs around his waist, and her arms around his neck, pulling him in as close as she can get him. Andy pushes April's skirt up her hips and teases little circles around her center, over the fabric of her panties. She gasps into his mouth, fingers scratching against the base of his skull the way she knows he loves. He hums in appreciation, but still refuses to give her what she needs, skin on skin.

"You realize two can play at this game right now," she mumbles against his mouth, and reaches down to tug on the hem of his dress. He's wearing panties underneath, black silk with a red lace overlay. Andy had not been happy about this, until April had bought herself the same pair. She looks down now, at the matching fabrics rubbing against one another - just a few seconds, much easier than her usual fumble with his belt, button, and zipper. Andy seems to agree, because his grip on her thigh tightens, almost painfully, and he seems to forget to resume his frustrating stroking. April shoves both of their underwear aside in a swift, deft motion, and Andy sinks into her immediately. She pulls the skirt up all the way, so that she can dig her nails into his ass cheeks. Andy grunts and starts moving.

"I think I'm really coming around to this whole girl clothes thing," he gasps out between thrusts. 

April absolutely does not giggle.


End file.
